


Clothes

by Sombraline



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Almost Fluff, Cultural Differences, Frostiron Month, M/M, Special Dress, tony in asgard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-10 02:46:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2008095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sombraline/pseuds/Sombraline
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Loki had first asked of him to be his plus-one in some sort of Asgardian banquet celebratory thingie, Tony had agreed immediately -because he had pictured things going very differently than this.</p>
<p>Yes, sure, because he loved Loki, too, and because he was happy that his partner was finally starting to be able to pronounce the word ‘Asgard’ without hissing the syllables as though they were a powerful and vicious curse that would condemn Odin to hit his pinky toe against the corner of every furniture he would walk by, every day, for the rest of his life; but also and mostly, because Loki had talked about the feast as of a simple party, something that happened every other week-end in Valhalla-land. “Nothing that you aren’t used to”, he had assured. “Nothing that will make you uncomfortable, worry not.”</p>
<p>Yeah, well. That’d teach him to put his trust into the fucking God of Lies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clothes

When Loki had first asked of him to be his plus-one in some sort of Asgardian banquet celebratory thingie, Tony had agreed immediately -because he had pictured things going very differently than this.

Yes, sure, because he loved Loki, too, and because he was happy that his partner was finally starting to be able to pronounce the word ‘Asgard’ without hissing the syllables as though they were a powerful and vicious curse that would condemn Odin to hit his pinky toe against the corner of every furniture he would walk by, every day, for the rest of his life; but also and mostly, because Loki had talked about the feast as of a simple party, something that happened every other week-end in Valhalla-land. “Nothing that you aren’t used to”, he had assured. “Nothing that will make you uncomfortable, worry not.”

Yeah, well. That’d teach him to put his trust into the fucking God of Lies.

The party hadn’t even started yet, and he was already very uncomfortable.

“What’s wrong with you people? A-ah fuck- Jesus, stop pulling, will you?! It’s obviously not fitting, there’s no use in try- ah!”

Maybe it had all been a trap, really. Maybe Loki was nowhere close to start being at peace with his home planet again and he had decided that he had enough of Tony’s efforts to be a nice boyfriend and to push him toward therapy. Maybe he was a sadistic asshole who had decided that the best way to make him shut up was to ensure that he hated Asgard as well.

Maybe his lover was being a jerk and he just enjoyed seeing him in pain.

The small smirk at the corner of his lips as he watching Tony rubbing his lower back with a little whimper of pain was most certainly pointing toward that theory.

“What are you grinning at, you jerk?! Aren’t you going to keep your servant from abusing me?!”

“At the moment, I am mostly concerned about the abuse my servant is enduring with your terrible language toward them, my love. Don’t pay attention to him, Loki added, that asshole, offering a charming smile to the old lady that was throwing offended looks to Tony.”

It was all a conspiracy. Even Thor, that traitor, had told him that he would most certainly enjoy his evening when he had known he was coming. That was what he got for being nice and helping the blond to get close to his brother again: they teamed-up to make fun of him.

All his focus being on glaring at his lover and trying to come up with some way to wipe that mocking grin from his face, he was taken by surprise when the old servant that ‘helped’ him dress mistreated him again, without a warning, pulling at the lace of the leather pants they had previously squeezed him in mercilessly.

Laces. Leather pants. It was as ridiculous as it sounded and so much more painful than it looked.

“Don’t pull that much! Aw, aaaaw! I need some blood going in those legs, you know! I got precious stuff down my belt!”

“Most certainly, you do. Keep quiet, my love, your struggling is only making this last. If you keep it going, we’ll end up being late.”

“You’re enjoying this.”

“You’re looking good, like this.”

“Yeah, yeah. Get that smirk off your face. I’m not attending the banquet wearing those. I refuse. You suck.”

Even as the old woman finished tying the laces to the side of his thighs and backed away from him (temporarily, he knew, shuddering at the thought of what other horrors could be waiting for him inside that big chest she had moved toward to), he winced in discomfort as he tried to move at all, obtaining small little creaky and squeaky sounds. How the hell did Loki and Thor make that thing look like it was something as casual as a pair of jeans, those weirdoes?

He turned around to have a look into the tall, gold-framed mirror on the wall, and scoffed. Loki’s leather trousers looked good on him, of course, they always seemed to be like a second skin under his hundred layers of clothing, covering his ten-miles long legs flawlessly. But on Tony? It brought back painful memories of his young years (being a teen in the seventies, terrible idea) and his past lack of tastes. And it also tugged unpleasantly at various parts of him. Okay, one part, mostly.

“It suits you, my love,” Loki assured, walking behind him to rest his chin over his shoulder, because he was apparently never going to get tired of enjoying their height difference. “I’d go as far as to say that I might have to ensure that nobody steals you from me tonight. You’re ravishing.”

“Yeah, right, make fun of me,” Tony mumbled, crossing his arms over his bare chest. “You never mentioned that I had to dress up. Why does it matter so much? Everyone here is aware that I’m human, aren’t they? So why do I have to get into your weird S&M clothes?”

“It is a matter of cultural differences, darling. If you don’t dress as a warrior, then they’ll have a hard time seeing you as one.”

Tony had every intentions to let Loki know that his reputation in front of a bunch of Asgardians wasn’t worth being stuck for hours inside tight leather pants that didn’t do any good to a part of his anatomy that the god would most certainly miss if it was squeezed to death as he suspected it would be, but he was interrupted before he could open his mouth by the return of the servant, who didn’t ask for his advice before pulling what looked like a long, thick shirt over his head. He grimaced as she backed off.

“Hey, you could, like, give me a warning!” (At the look the old woman casted at him, he could tell she was not impressed) “Loki, what did you do to that woman? She hates me and she won’t tell me why.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Anthony. Hlidja helped me with my clothing for years when I was a child. I trust you in her hands almost as much as in mines.”

“Stop squirming and I’ll like you more, Midgardian,” the woman stated with a little sneer, ignoring Loki’s appreciation speech. Tony assumed she had to be pretty flattery-proof to work with Loki. “I hadn’t had someone being that difficult since your lover stopped trying to stuff an armor twice his size. Now just stay still, will you?”

At Loki’s suddenly very dignified posture and his eyes, now deeply captivated by something on the ceiling, Tony made a mental note to become friend with that woman and to hear all of the blackmail material she had. Then his eyes travelled back to the mirror and he frowned, forgetting about it for now.

“Blue? Why the hell am I wearing blue? Can’t I have something red or black or… something? And why is it that pale? Is that pastel?”

“It’s the color for the royal family’s partners,” Loki supplied helpfully, seemingly happy that they were not talking about his youth’s fashion sense anymore. “The same Mother and Jane wear.”

“Yeah, I get it, it looks okay on a woman, but -seriously? Come on, it can’t matter that much, people know I’m your lover. I want red. Thor has to have some clothes I can borrow, surely?”

“He does, but he would then be forced to fight you into a duel over the dinner table.”

He stared at Loki in disbelief, eyes widening when he realized that the other was absolutely serious. Okay, what the hell? That was taking ‘One of us is gonna have to change’ to a whole new level. He had been to catwalks and movie premieres and he had seen models yelling and threatening each other if they didn’t find something else to wear, but he hadn’t expected Thor to be that precious. He was about to express that thought precisely, but Hlidja came back at that moment precisely and placed something on his shoulder that was heavy enough to nearly make him lose his balance. Still, his features had had to express his confusion, for Loki started speaking again while the servant adjusted the piece of armor over his shoulder blades.

“Red, especially bright as Thor wears it, is the color only the current heir to the throne is allowed to wear. To have clothes of that fabric would be taken like a challenge to him. Sif is allowed to some red adornments on her armor only because of her place as the first warrior maiden of Asgard. Otherwise, it is unacceptable to wear it at a feast held by the royal family.”

-Why the hell is it for? So he’s easier to spot if people want to shoot him? Tony asked with a small groan of discomfort as he straightened up again.

He had always simply assumed Thor loved his flashy look. With every inch of Asgard covered in pure gold, it felt like the logical conclusion.

“As a matter of fact, that is the main reason why, yes,” Loki stated calmly. “The heir to the throne is supposed to be capable of defeating any and standing proud to any threat.”

“…I’m not surprised, at that point, y’know. What are you in green for, then? Camouflage?”

“The second prince is supposed to wear blue and bronze. Green is a color associated with magic.”

“Right. And you like to advertise.”

“Without it, I’d risk being challenged into fights on a daily basis for lying about my fighting skills.”

“Uh. Kind of camouflage, then.”

“Sort of. Frigga is also convinced that green is my favorite color and filled my wardrobes with green capes. I didn’t want to disappoint her.”

“Aw, you’re so cute when you care for your Momma,” Tony grinned.

He was rewarded by a roll of Loki’s eyes, along with a highly satisfying blushing. He loved it when Loki blushed. His satisfaction was short-lived, though; Hlidja was back already with a pair of boots that took ten minutes for him to get into, due to their tightness and the unreasonable amount of buckles that held them around his ankles. Tony wasn’t allowed to protest properly before the servant tied a cape to his shoulder, arm braces to his wrists, and a large, murderous looking knife, tied to a thin black leather belt that went to circle his waist.

“Don’t argue, darling mine. You will look naked without a weapon.”

And Loki, that asshole, was having the time of his thousand years long life by watching him not being able to move properly and pulling at a cape that he was certain would try to kill him in the evening.

“You’re making fun of me”, he accused him, crossing his arms over his chest and ouch okay not doing that anymore so long as those pointy pieces of armors were covering his forearms. He winced, starting to be sincerely annoyed. “You’re just making fun of me because I mocked your shiny clothes, aren’t you? You don’t even wear your stupid cape five times a year, and even then, you use it as a blanket. And when’s the last time you carried a weapon? This is bullshit. If this is payback because stupid People magazine called you my exotic boyfriend- oh really, I get to carry a dead animal too”, he pestered when Hlidja, who clearly was not impressed by his annoyance, placed a shiny piece of silver fur over his shoulders to cover the cape’s ties. “Look, I’m not amused. I get it, you thought it was hilarious, I don’t. I’m wearing jeans and T-shirt or we’re going home.”

Loki’s smile had dropped a little as he spoke, and while Hlidja had walked toward them with something else (just how much did they think that a human being could carry on his back?), the prince raised a hand to thank her and demand some privacy. She left without needing that much more convincing, and Tony looked as the god toyed with the silver torque he had taken back from the servant, waiting for him to say something. After a minute or so of unexpected silence, he frowned further.

“Okay, what? I don’t like you making fun of me. You look hot in a three-pieces suit, I look ridiculous in this thing, you win. So what’s the point-”

“I wasn’t making fun of you.”

Well. Yeah. Right. He’d need to go back in time and punch that smile off his own past self to convince him about that. Tony opened his mouth to let Loki know that precisely, but the god spoke, quietly. Oh no. The quiet voice of doom.

Tony had learned to fear when Loki gave up his usual pretentious tone or superior smirk to speak softly. Not for himself, not so much, but it usually came with a self-loathing crisis. The other confessing that he was part of a race of monsters, or telling him that he had had kiddos before, or that there were so much freakier things than Chitauris behind New York’s portal. He didn’t like it, because it usually came with insecurity and an insecure Loki was no fun by any mean.

Come on, he was just trying not to look like an ass during a party with Olympia’s crowd. That wasn’t worth the little pout of ultimate sadness, was it?

“Like, can we at least remove the cape and sword? I can keep the pants and, uh, shirt, if you really want me to wear Asgardian clothes, but… Come on, it just feels ridiculous on me. I’m tiny.”

“It looks good on you”, Loki stated, and he did sound serious this time. Tony had yet to be convinced, but the god continued, now, his voice a little faster. “I may have… not told you all about tonight. I… Well…”

“…Well? What did you get me into, this time?”

“Do not say this like you were never to blame before, Anthony. I am trying to explain, I- Look, this is, of sort, this is more official than I claimed.”

Okay. Okay, right, uh, okay. So. This was not scary at all. Except for the alarms that were screaming and wailing in Tony’s head yelling panic words like ‘MARRIAGE’ that had to make his eyes widen enough, because the god grimaced at his own wording and shook his head.

“No, I -I just- ah, curse it. This is your introduction to the Court of Asgard”, Loki said at last, looking away and pinching slightly at the skin of the palm of his hand. “I have yet to entirely take my place back in the royal family, but your presence at my side is nonetheless a… shocking news to many, one that requires to be proven true by fact. And-”

“Wait, wait. I thought you had had too many boyfriends for that to be important.”

Yeah, Tony wasn’t buying the quick and delicate explanation Loki was giving, he knew him better than that. Suddenly, there was a weight on his shoulders that didn’t come from the weight of the armor. It was a talk they had had. Loki saying that it wasn’t worth introducing Tony to the court until he was granted a Golden Apple, Tony reminding him that he had yet to agree to ask for one of those. The awkwardness that had followed on both sides, none of them wanting to mention the topic again for a while. What had changed?

“Well, ah.” Okay, the grin of nervousness. This was getting worse every time Loki opened his mouth and hesitated. “I decided to abandon my place as Prince, for what’s left of that title anyway. I mean, I shall keep my place in the court, and a symbolic place next to Thor, but-”

“And how do I fit in that?” Tony asked, narrowing his eyes at him suspiciously as he started to understand.

“Many at the court are… very pleased of this decision. Tyr, Freyja, Vé, Sif. They’re happy to know I won’t be around that much anymore.”

“…You planned on using me.”

“The feast is supposedly a farewell to me”, Loki protested. “I merely want to have you by my side.”

“And let me guess, rub our happiness and gayness in their face until they’re sick. Can’t I wear jeans for that?”

“You do not mind?”

“Yeah, I do mind. I told you. Leather? I can’t feel my legs anymore, except that they’re sweaty. And why the fur? It’s July!”

“Because it will infuriate them to have nothing to mock in your appearance”, Loki explained, a relieved smile back on his lips. “And I promise you, I’ll help removing all this soon as it is over. You agree to it, then?”

“Yeah. Yeah, asshole. I’d do the same. But you owe me to let the paparazzi see you being all blue in my arms. No arguing.”

**Author's Note:**

> *Sorry for the mistakes, if there are any left !
> 
> **Yay I made it in time! *proud*


End file.
